


Friolero

by FishPrincess



Series: HSWC 2014 Bonus Round 2 [6]
Category: Homestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishPrincess/pseuds/FishPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>friolero (spanish) - a person who is especially sensitive to cold weather and temperatures. For HSWC Bonus Round 2. A response to a prompt by bookwormally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friolero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookwormally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/gifts).



It was so much warmer in her hive.

Now, at this time of year, it wasn’t so bad. Any adult troll could handle this weather easily. The Dolorosa, in a long-sleeved dress that brushed against the ground and rustled the dry grass beneath her. It would be an enjoyable night, tonight, had she been alone.

But that was not the case.

By her side was a newly pupated wiggler, barely able to walk on his own two feet. She knew the more he moved, the more it would get his warm blood flowing. His eyes squinted against the wind, and his entire body shivered as she held his hand tightly for support. He was clothed in a long robe that she knit especially for him, with little leggings that were supposed to brace him for the impending cold.

She wanted to give him the comfort of her hive, as it had become their home. Small but comfortable, it was just barely insulated enough to keep the little one at a perfect temperature. Trolls were not meant to raise other trolls, but she felt destined to rescue him from his fate as a mutant. In her eyes, he deserved so much more. She would do whatever she could to ensure his safety and survival.

Then, he had slipped out the front door, just barely outside when she caught him, only to see her neighbor staring directly at her and her precious boy.

She had no choice but to leave with him.

Perhaps it was his blood that made the weather hard to bear, but all she knew was that she was intensely worried for him. She needed to find some sort of shelter, but she knew not of this area. With her, she had brought plenty of food, blankets, and clothing, but she needed to find somewhere that she could tend to him better.

To her relief, a cave appeared in the distance, and she scooped up her little one and ran for it with all she had. There, she could curl up with him and cease his crying, wrapping him in blankets until he slept peacefully, shivering ceased. He would live to see another day under her care, and he would live to see so much more.

Centuries later in the same cave, a young troll and its lusus takes shelter from a similar cold in the same cave. Small hands trace over each olive drawing illustration of this story for the tenth time; it is a favorite among the countless others in this cave alone.

This little troll, long past the Sufferer’s execution, becomes a believer.


End file.
